


the end

by seaofolives



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death In Dream, Ignis Scientia Needs a Hug, Ignis Scientia is Not Blind, M/M, Minor Violence, POV Ignis Scientia, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: “We got it on the ropes,” Gladio cried, running to him where he fell in a crouch. “You gotta do it again—” The boom of rocks ate his words. When they looked up, they found the Ganymede pulling its elbow back until it was breaking through the ceiling.That great fist plummeted to them, faster than Ignis could breathe—“Ignis!!”The impact echoed in the ruined corridor, the dreadful sound shaking Ignisʼ world, trapping it in echoes. He could hear the Crystal cracking, watch time slow down as Gladio crashed upon the ceiling near the end of the path, and fell like a stringless marionette to the floor.“Gladio!!!”This was how it would end.A nightmare in the making.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17
Collections: Gladnis Weekend 2020





	the end

**Author's Note:**

> SO a quick explanation: this is sort of an au headcanon i have where the minute ignis was allowed to make a decision between verse 1 and verse 2 in episode: ignis, all these multiverses were created and in the center of them all was the crystal. i meant to write a longer version of this but cn seem to find the proper mindset for it so this one will do!

This was how it would end. 

Daemons rising from every corner of the old throne room, a literal army of darkness summoned to crush the living lights out of them. 

While The Usurper made his escape through the crack in the wall. “Bastard!” Prompto snarled, pointing to the ghost of his dark trail. “Heʼs getting away!” 

“Noct!” Gladio barked, blocking the wild cut of an Aramusha. There were so many daemons, so much miasma filling a single space, it was hard to see beyond the length of his arm. Ignis was pressed close to his husband, and that was all he knew. “Go after ‘im, this ainʼt your fight!!” 

“Gladio?!” 

“Heʼs right, Majesty.” Ignis had to throw in his voice, otherwise the king would not move. “Unless we end Ardyn, these daemons will never let up!” 

“Weʼll keep an eye on these guys,” Prompto promised him between bursts of bullets. “Go!!” 

“Bring the light back!” 

“Weʼre counting on ya!” Gladio roared. 

“My friends…” Through his voice, he could tell that the king was wavering. 

Ignis twisted away from the cut of a Necromancer, summoned his spear and struck the daemon through its neck. He risked one second to search for his liege. 

He stood at the base of his dais, fear and anxiety shaping his eyes. Then with the painful decision of following their advice, as heʼd always had even during his youth, he turned his back to them, flung his sword to the crack and warped after the master of daemons. 

That was, perhaps, the proudest moment of his life as the kingʼs retainer. 

This was how it would end. 

Shattered windows, collapsed pillars, their great Citadel falling piece by piece. 

Prompto had disappeared, the evidence of his survival being only the occasional cracks of his gun, or his own screaming rage. 

Ignis was left with his husband, then, both of them parrying the blows of the Ganymede, spotting each otherʼs blindsides. While Gladio blocked the chop, Ignis rolled to the giantʼs back, folded himself close to the ruined floor and boosted himself up to the ceiling, spear in hand. 

With a crash, he landed upon the daemonʼs great muscles, the crystalʼs blade striking through its hide. He jumped out of danger in a backflip as the monster arched back with a roar. 

“We got it on the ropes,” Gladio cried, running to him where he fell in a crouch. “You gotta do it again—” The boom of rocks ate his words. When they looked up, they found the Ganymede pulling its elbow back until it was breaking through the ceiling. 

That great fist plummeted to them, faster than Ignis could breathe—

“ _Ignis!!_ ” 

The impact echoed in the ruined corridor, the dreadful sound shaking Ignisʼ world, trapping it in echoes. He could hear the Crystal cracking, watch time slow down as Gladio crashed upon the ceiling near the end of the path, and fell like a stringless marionette to the floor. 

“ _Gladio!!!_ ” 

This was how it would end.

Ignis sliding to his husbandʼs side on his knees as the Ganymede faded into nothing, dawn shedding light onto the ruined stones of their victory ground. 

And blood…so much blood spurting through his husbandʼs red mouth as Gladio coughed and wheezed. His bones were shattered and he couldnʼt even move more than a little of his neck, just so he could turn his face to him. 

“No!” Ignis rasped; he didnʼt know where to start healing him. But he carried him to his arms, though it was all he could do not to shake him with his rattled nerves. Gladio groaned, convulsing in pain. Everything was crimson and broken. 

“Gladio,” he beckoned to him, choking in despair and his tears. “You must live, the light is back! Please, gods, please donʼt leave me…” Gladio started coughing once again, blood gushing out with every attack. Ignis tried to catch them, for whatever reason. It was getting harder to breathe. “You promised…you promised we would always be together…!” 

For one last time, his beloved husband looked into his eyes…and smiled. White light cast him in striking shades of scarlet and shadows. Those honey amber eyes, which always filled him with so much strength, faded little by little… 

This was how it would end.

—

Ignis started with a strangled gasp, then coughed. The night was dark…and deathly quiet, too quiet to soothe the racing of his heart. Even the sheer drapes that danced lazily with the breeze blowing into the bedroom felt as if some cruel god had muted them. Fists tight, jaws tense, he burned and shuddered in the fever heat.

 _Gladio…_ He whimpered, turning to the corpse of his husband beside him. This was wrong, one part of his mind told him. Gladioʼs eyes were shut, his face peaceful and his treacherous thoughts told him this was okay and this was wrong all at the same time. He had to find out, he had to know who was lying to him. His heart was racing. Ignis was frightened, tears pooling in his eyes… 

At the count of 5, he boosted himself suddenly to his elbow, choking as he pulled the blanket off Gladioʼs front and stared at the long scar that decorated his chest. Dread doused him in chilly water. 

_Scars are good,_ he reminded himself but despite that, the imaginary blood gushing from them shook him to his bones and made him weak with nausea. When he breathed, he betrayed himself with a tight sob. 

And then those amber eyes opened in alarm, and Ignis lost it. 

“Ignis?” 

His husband was alive—well and alive. Ignis sagged with the weight of relief until his damp cheeks met the swells of Gladioʼs chest where he poured out his terror. Those thick arms wrapped themselves swiftly about him. 

And then they carried both of them up when Gladio rose from the pillow so he could hold Ignis like a babe while he wept, keening noises escaping the cracks of his heart. Ignis clung to his broad shoulders desperately, mind in a blaze with so much emotions and so little focus. Gladio was alive but there was something else amiss. “Hey, hey, itʼs okay,” his husband reassured him, rocking him, patting his back. “Stupeo, itʼs me, Gladiolus.” And there…there it was. 

The magic word. _Stupeo, itʼs me, Gladiolus_ —his abracadabra. 

Ignis almost stopped all at once, gasping at the reminder. This was how they learned to deal with his nightmares, under the guidance of his therapist. Since Ignis was riddled with so many wrong visions, some of which drove him screaming until Gladio had to smother him with his weight, they needed a way to draw the line between his mind and his reality. _“Stupeo, itʼs me, Gladiolus,”_ was one way to do it—a name that almost belonged to Ignis, combined with his husbandʼs name that he barely used. 

After that, everything followed through in order—he started to breathe easy, to remember where he was: _I am home with my husband. It has been 3 years since our marriage, and since the light returned. Our king is Noctis Lucis Caelum. We are in Insomnia. We are all alive…_

Now the silence was a gift, a blank music sheet on which the beating of Gladioʼs strong heart, and his very _breaths_ wrote their song. Ignis closed his eyes and focused on their notes, matching his with their tempo… 

“You okay now?” But none was more beautiful than the sound of his husbandʼs gentle thunder, like a balm to protect from his own dark thoughts. 

Ignis nodded, and for that Gladio planted a kiss on his temple. His warm velvet lips teased a pleasant shudder up his flesh. 

He pushed himself back. He was always loathe to leave his husbandʼs arms but this was a part of Ignis drawing the line, as well. After counting to four, he inhaled deeply, and exhaled… 

Then looked into those amber eyes, alight with their own fire. 

Gladio smirked for him. “That wasnʼt so bad.” 

Ignis snorted at his lenient commendation with a roll of his eyes. “At least I didnʼt wake up screaming, I suppose.” He ran his hands over his wet cheeks. “Though I would have been more impressed with myself if I hadnʼt cried again.” 

“Hey,” Gladio touched him on his arm, “baby steps. Itʼs been a week since your last nightmare. Youʼre getting more sleep these days.” He smiled at him. “What is it this time?” 

Ignis breathed out quietly. “Weʼd made it to the throne room. Ardyn escaped and Noct chased him. In the meantime, we tried to hold the daemons back. Then we took on a Ganymede on our own. It was about to crush me but you jumped in the way and took the blow.” Normally, he would stop at this part—the tragedy. 

But by now, heʼd learned to be honest about it, as well. It was a part of his healing, and a part of his relationship with his husband. That _trust_ which they promised each other in front of their king on their wedding day. “You ended up in a bad way. I reminded you that you said to me once that we would be together forever.” 

Gladio snorted suddenly and chuckled. “Me?” He grinned. “Thatʼs the corniest thing Iʼve ever heard.” 

Ignis smiled shyly. “Is it?” Further proof that it was all a bad dream. “I woke up after that. And because you were asleep, I must have thought the worst.” 

Gladio nodded, showing his understanding. He, too, had learned to take these tragic stories by stride now. Then he picked up one of Ignisʼ hands and pressed it to his heart, where he could feel its life under his thick muscles. 

The other he brought to his lips to kiss its palm, then breathed in it, keeping his eyes on Ignisʼ sight. All these proofs of life… 

Ignis smiled and nodded in understanding. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“‘sit your first time dreaming that?” Gladio trapped their hands together between them, running his thumbs along the hills of Ignisʼ knuckles. 

Ignis nodded. “Perhaps, I am seeing a new…strain of nightmares?” he chuckled, smiling in self-deprecation. “It had been some time since I dreamt that I was blind. Or that Noct had died on the throne or that I had died by Ardynʼs blade.” 

“We just gotta keep at it, then,” Gladio said. “No matter how real it feels, these are all just…things in the mind, yʼknow?” 

“I heard the Crystal crack again,” Ignis added. A fact that used to frighten them both, but now held no power over them. Ever since these nightmares started, the Crystal had been cracking, piece by piece. And these little shards broke into glitters in the air and disappeared. With the gods at rest, there was no divinity that could explain to Noctis why it was happening. But the king told them that he could hear and feel nothing from the Crystal—which meant that its cracking was neither good nor bad. It just…was. 

So Gladio only nodded. “We better tell Noct about this tomorrow, then.” 

Ignis nodded, too. That was how they would handle this. As the kingʼs men, without hiding in fear but instead, facing it and acknowledging it. 

A lesson he learned from his husband, who had shown unwavering resolve through Ignisʼ doubts and fears. He was his rock, his elixir. 

His husband and his life. Gladio tugged him over to lay another kiss on his forehead, before they wove their arms around each other as Gladio carried them back to their pillows. Ignis closed his eyes, then, ready for whatever the night may show him. This was how he would face it—swathed in his loveʼs warmth, breathing in the scent of his flesh, letting his presence guide him through the tunnel of his nightmare and lead him to the light. 

This was how it would end.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's it for my contributions for gladnis weekend 2020! thanks so much for joining me, it's been a BLAST writing these stories and sharing them! don't forget to check out the rest of the [collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GladnisWeekend2020) for more gladnis goodness and leave them a kudos and a comment 💕💕💕 hope you enjoyed this! o///


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